


Curiousity

by orphan_account



Series: Bloody Mess [4]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic just can't leave well enough alone. This time, it gets him in trouble with Heavy and Sniper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiousity

Medic had always been curious. His curiosity had been the driving force behind him getting (and subsequently losing) his medical license. So it was only natural that he would need to examine Sasha. One night, when Heavy’s mighty snores proved too much to sleep through, Medic crept out of bed to the forbidden gun. He also stole a shell out of Heavy’s bandolier. Holding the hefty piece of metal, he imagined it passing through skin, fat, muscle, bone, organs, and the same in reverse on the other side. It was a very formidable weapon. He had treated Sasha-related wounds before, of course, but had (so far) managed to avoid any of his own. He fondled the gun, wondering what it would be like to fire, to wield such raw destruction. If he could even lift it.

Heavy’s snores broke with a snort. “Doktor?” he called. He was surprisingly swift on his feet for so big a man, and he was in the doorway in a moment. 

Medic had one ear pressed to Sasha’s cool metal, listening to the reverberations of the giant barrel as he tapped the gun. He didn’t hear Heavy’s call, or the large man approaching. Heavy could also be very quiet.

Heavy’s face darkened into a frown, but he didn’t move or say anything. He watched the Doktor touch his Sasha. 

His long fingers dancing over Sasha, Medic found the trigger. His eyes gleamed behind his glasses; he couldn’t resist. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back on the floor, ears ringing. Sasha was between his legs, and there was a colossal hole in the far wall. He shook his head, trying to clear it and to figure out what had happened. He heard a commotion outside—he must have woken the whole base. Medic quickly flung open a window and shouted, “It’s ok! Everything is fine! Just, an, ah, experiment!” There were some shouted curses, but everyone soon settled down. Good thing Heavy could sleep through anything. 

Heavy’s giant arms circled the Doktor and squeezed him. “Why did you touch Sasha?”

Medic, already fairly on edge and a little in shock, screamed when he felt himself caught. He immediately tried to get away or get a weapon, clawing and biting and kicking and thrashing as best he could, still not calm enough to even realize it was Heavy who held him. 

Heavy shook the doktor until he was still. 

Now completely addled, Medic was eventually shaken in to submission. Panting, he tried to assess the situation. He stared at the massive hole, trying to make the world make sense again. 

Heavy realized how rough he was being and let the doktor go, catching him as he started to collapse. “Why blow hole in the wall?” he looked puzzled. 

Medic sank into Heavy’s strong arms with relief, finally realizing who held him. “Heavy? I, ah…I’m renovating.”

“Liar,” he said softly, petting Medic’s hair with a huge hand. “Sasha is not for renovating.”

Medic relaxed as his Heavy petted him, then slowly turned in his lover’s arms until he was facing Heavy. He raised an eyebrow and tried to get his legs to work again. “…are you calling your doktor a liar?” he asked, trying to sound like his usual stern self and not just cling to Heavy and whimper.

Heavy could see through his doktor, but still wouldn’t fight him. “No. But Sasha is not to be touched. Even by you.”

Medic gently patted Heavy’s huge bicep with hands that shook only a little. “A good policy, mein Heavy.”

“If you like…I could show her to you,” he offered.

Medic nodded, quite meekly. “I would like that. But, ah, maybe in the morning?” He indulged in a moment of recreational Heavy-snuggling.   
Heavy nodded, standing with the doctor cradled in one arm and took them both to bed. 

The next morning, Medic was woken by furious pounding on the infirmary door. “How did you managed to hurt yourselves this early?” he muttered. Then he saw the hole in the wall, and remembered. “Oh.”

Sniper pushed his way in and handed Medic something in a jar. It looked like a bandana. 

“One moment.” Medic found a pair of his heavy rubber gloves before taking the jar with an expression of distaste. “…what is this, and why are you giving it to me? Is it some sort of…sample?”

“That is a piss-covered bandana, and you’re going to wash it. Your noise last night. What was that all about?” Sniper fished out his cigarettes and lit one. 

“Don’t smoke in here,” Medic protested, ignoring the fact that every time he and Sniper fucked they always smoked together—a man has to keep control in his domain somehow, after all. Especially if he’s German. “Why am I washing your piss-covered bandana, exactly?” He ignored the part about the noise, though he may have had the faintest blush. 

Sniper continued to smoke. “Your noise startled me. I was taking a piss. I dropped the jar and I mopped it up with that.”

“That is disgusting.” Medic set the jar aside for Heavy to deal with later. “Next!”

Soldier came in, pushing Scout in front of him. “Let him tell you.”

Scout flushed bright red all the way to his ear tips. “It was just a reflex! I’m sorry… it wasn’t anything.”

Medic crossed his arms behind his back, looking from one to the other. “If you’re just going to stand there and quibble and not make sense…next!”

Soldier interrupted everyone else with his arm. “I need your medigun.”

“I bit down.” Scout muttered.

“Bit down on…oh.” Laughing sadistically, but quietly, Medic patted his exam table. “Sit here, and I will make it all better.” He aligned the medigun and set the dials appropriately. 

Soldier sat, teeth clenched under his helmet. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the effects of the medigun, but Soldier always held himself too tense, like he was afraid to enjoy. 

Scout looked down at his shoes, scuffing the toes and fidgeting.

“There. You’re fixed. Now go away and take him with you, unless he needs to be repaired as well.” Medic smiled down at Scout, showing his eyeteeth. 

Scout flushed even darker and ran after Soldier as he left. 

Pyro was next and he made some motions with his arms and said some muffled things.

“Mm-hmmm…do you need this?” Medic tapped the medigun. Conversations with Pyro always made Medic feel like he was playing charades with someone whose native language was …swine. 

Pyro made some more obscene looking gestures and made muffled sounds louder. 

Spy pushed through the crowd at the door and past Pyro. “You made him drop his sandwich.”

“…I made him drop his sandwich. Wait, do you understand him?”

“Non.” he laughed derisively, “I was there. I have no idea what he wants from you, but I do know that’s what happened.”

Pyro made some sandwich making gestures.

“…you want me to…make your bed?” Medic guessed, rubbing his temples. He was getting a headache, and sensing that this was going to be a long day. 

“I make sandvich.” Heavy gestured for Pyro to follow him. “Make you one too.”

Pyro followed him, seemingly contented with this.

“I burned myself with my cigarette.” Spy said, still sucking on a new cigarette though. The burn didn’t seem to have changed his mind about that.

Medic sighed with relief and tried to think of a suitable way to thank Heavy later. “Medigun?” he asked Spy. “How did you burn yourself with your own cigarette?”

“I dropped it.” he grimaced. “What was that noise, anyway?”

Medic looked around casually as he prepped the medigun. “What noise? I didn’t hear anything.” He laughed to himself. “I’ve always said smoking is hazardous to your health.”

Spy sat on the table. “It sounded just like Heavy’s Sasha,” he said, clearly not believing a word Medic was saying. “I knew you and Heavy were into rough sex, but using Sasha is a bit rougher than I imagined.”

To his utter horror, Medic felt his face flush completely red. “Ah, yes, well…perhaps it was the enemy trying new weapons. I have no idea. Sit still and I will fix you.” He turned away as quickly as he could, fiddling unnecessarily with the medigun while he tried to get his body back under his usual iron control. He sidled along the wall until he had blocked Spy’s view of the giant Sasha-induced hole. 

“Your face turning red is not helping me to believe you, Medic.” Spy chuckled. “Neither is the hole in the wall.”

“Get out.” Medic snapped. “Next!” he yelled, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than necessary. 

Spy tapped his thigh with his fingers, waiting patiently.

“Why are you still here?! Oh. I suppose you are still being troubled by your small, self-induced burn. Very well.” Medic flipped on the medigun and thought about all the unpleasant things he would do to Spy the next time the odious little Frenchman was at his mercy.

Spy smirked at him. “Enjoy Sasha,” he sauntered out, brushing off his suit.

Engineer popped his head in. “I’ll need to borrow Heavy. Where’d he go?”

Resisting the urge to widen the hole by banging his head into the wall around it repeatedly, Medic pointed in the direction Heavy and Pyro had gone. “He’s making Pyro a sandwich.” At least that was a simple enough request that didn’t involve him. It could even be unrelated. And at least Spy was gone. 

“Thanks. But why’d you go blasting a hole in the wall? D’you need help fixing it?” The Engineer offered.

“Ah…yes. Some other time, perhaps. Thank you for your generous offer.” Medic could feel a wild laugh bubbling up inside him, and he fought to contain it. At this point, he hoped that they would all go and get shot very soon, so he could not help them and they could writhe on the ground until they died. They would come back, of course, they always came back, but at least…

The last man, and apparently the most patient, hobbled in, using a rifle as a crutch. “Just put me leg back on, Medic,” he tossed the severed limb onto the table and hopped up himself. The stump had been cauterized.

“Finally, someone has actually been doing something productive today!” Medic smiled indulgently as he set up the medigun. “Unlike the rest of these…layabouts…”

“It certainly was productive,” he said, vaguely. “Havin’ a rough mornin’, aye?”

Medic finally allowed himself to sink into a chair. “Yes, actually. However could you tell?” The doctor turned to face Demoman, his hair dishevelled, his eyes wild and bloodshot, his hands spasming every few seconds as though he were throttling invisible enemies.

“There was a line ta get in.” he grinned broadly.

“Ah, yes. That. One would think that such highly trained professionals would be less concerned with my affairs and would have better things to do.” Medic settled back in his chair with a deep sigh. “My day is half done and nothing significant has been accomplished.” 

Demoman shrugged, patting the doctor gently on the arm and heading out the door.

“Ahhh…perhaps some schnapps, eh, Archimedes?” Medic murmured to the circling, cooing doves. “I think we’ve earned that.” He brought out the bottle, disguised as rubbing alcohol, and poured himself a drink before sinking back into his chair and waiting for Heavy to get back, or for another real casualty. 

“Do I get a shot?” Sniper wound his arms around Medic’s shoulders languidly.

Medic yelped, the schnapps spilling as he spun, holding the bottle out as a club. “What are you still doing here? Heavy—I mean I—will clean up your rag later!”

Sniper set the bottle right again as quickly as he could, taking a quick swig. “I just wanted to spend some time with my favourite doctor, that’s all,” he smiled harmlessly.

“I am your only doctor,” Medic said, his patience frayed to just about nothing. “What do you want?” He snatched the bottle back and didn’t bother pouring into a glass before downing some with a fierce grimace. 

“Want a fuck?”

“Oh, please yes,” Medic blurted, before realizing how forward he had been, how eagerly obvious. “What I mean to say is…very well.”

Sniper undid his pants, letting them fall to the ground and stepping out of them, still wearing his boots. He grabbed Medic and pushed him over his desk, lifting his white coat and using his knife to cut off the man’s pants.

Medic moaned and allowed Sniper to have his way with him, especially loving being bent over the desk. “I hope you realize that I had nothing to do with your…accident,” he murmured, bending even further and offering up his ass.

Sniper ignored him, taking a piece of cut cloth from Medic’s thigh and using it to gag the doctor. He spat in his hand and slid two wet fingers into the doctor’s ass.

“Mmr mmah mm mmm mmmr!” Medic protested angrily when he heard Sniper’s spitting sound. He tried to squeeze the Australian’s fingers out by clenching his ass.

Sniper just slid deeper, scissoring his fingers apart to widen Medic’s hole. Soon enough he was ready to fuck him—condom-less as he preferred. 

Medic rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be used. He didn’t at first realize that Sniper wasn’t wearing a condom; he was soon moaning and grinding into Sniper, pleased to let off some of the weariness and tension of the morning. 

Sniper slid into Medic easily. He’d obviously found some sort of lube other than saliva. He groaned low in his chest, his cock nudging Medic’s prostate, forcing his hole wider as he sheathed himself completely. His nails dug into the man’s hips.

Medic moaned and thrust back against Sniper, dragging the Australian’s nails over his hips, crying out at the exquisite sensation. 

Heavy came back from making Pyro’s sandwich and helping Engineer. He stood in the doorway, an almost comical look of shock on his massive face.

Sniper was much too distracted to notice him, flipping his knife out of his front shirt pocket and dragging the blade down Medic’s back. 

“Ohh, yes, Sniper…” Medic moaned theatrically. He had caught sight of Heavy but quickly looked away so neither man would know. He bucked and twitched as he felt the knife, making little happy noises.

His doktor was being held down by the smelly Australian! He was hurting doktor with a knife! Doktor was whimpering and…hurt! Heavy charged Sniper and grabbed him by his thin shoulders, pulling him off of Medic with a roar.

Sniper’s eyes widened and he stabbed back at Heavy with the knife. “Get off!” He’d been pulled off Medic, cock still hard, almost horizontal. 

“Oh dear,” Medic chuckled, turning so his back was against the count and he could watch, quietly jerking himself off. 

“You don’t hurt doktor!” Heavy grabbed for Sniper’s knife hand.

“Medic!” Sniper screamed, jumping back against one of the stainless steel counters. “Heavy, we were playing! He likes this!”

Heavy raised an enormous eyebrow, but turned to look at Medic. “Is true? Doktor…likes?” His huge hands made a few interesting gestures.

“Oh, very well. Yes, Heavy. He wasn’t hurting me. Well, he was, but I enjoyed it. Don’t…hurt him.” He said the last almost wistfully. 

“Thank you,” Sniper said, snidely, literally collapsing on the counter with relief.

Medic’s eyes flicked around the infirmary. Finally he spotted Sniper’s jar. “Ah…Heavy…would you mind washing the contents of that jar for me?”

Still eying Sniper suspiciously, Heavy grabbed the jar. Peering at the bandana, he jerked his chin in Sniper’s direction. “Is his?”

“Yes,” Medic agreed.

“Good. I wash extra special.” With a final warning glare for Sniper, Heavy lumbered away clutching the jar.

“Great, that was one of my favourite bandanas,” Sniper groaned.

“He’s going to go wash it, I don’t see what the problem is. Now fuck me.” Medic turned again, offering Sniper his lean ass. Medic was still as hard as ever, despite (or maybe because of) the intervening action.

“I lost my boner.”

Medic rolled his eyes, but dropped to his knees in front of Sniper.

Sniper kicked him over, then viciously kicked him in the ribs. 

“Ow! What the hell, Sniper?!” Medic was smiling, though, and didn’t exactly look unhappy.

Sniper kicked him again, this time in the balls, using the sharp toe of his boots.

This time Medic curled into a ball to protect his sensitive bits. “You’re starting to piss me off, Sniper…” he growled warningly. 

Sniper grinned, rolling the man with his boot and stepping on the back of his neck.

“Ahh…” Medic moaned, going limp beneath the boot. He tried to speak, but all that came out were little happy noises. 

“Better?” Sniper asked, grinding the heel of his boot into Medic’s neck. 

“…yesss…” Medic hissed, nuzzling his face into the floor like an affectionate cat, his hips arching, offering himself to Sniper like, well, a cat in heat. 

“Good.” Sniper brought down the heel of his boot hard enough to nearly snap Medic’s neck, waiting to see how the man would react. 

Medic flinched and his hips tumbled to the floor again, and he growled a little, but that was more reflexive than anything else. He lay, quite passively, for Sniper, his nails digging into the polished linoleum. 

“And what if I break your neck?” Sniper hissed.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Medic purred, his accent thicker. “I would just come back. Or you would pounce on me from some dim corner.” 

Sniper bent down and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him to his feet. He forced Medic’s mouth against his groin. 

Medic obligingly spread his lips, laying soft kisses along Sniper’s hips and inner thighs, a wicked grin on his face, pulling back on his hair just a little. 

Sniper let him continue how he liked, keeping the grip on his hair firm. He leaned back against a counter, tilting his head back as he enjoyed. 

Encouraged, Medic began slowly increasing the pressure, using his teeth more and more, testing Sniper’s limits. He also moved away from Sniper’s groin, moving further up so his hair wasn’t being pulled as hard. 

Sniper kept his hand coiled in Medic’s hair, pulling it tight but keeping the man’s head down. He growled low in his throat, and Medic got the idea that he had been considering killing him as a quicker way of getting himself off. 

“Alright, alright,” Medic sighed, rolling his eyes and grinning wickedly. He slowly lowered his mouth to Sniper’s groin again, starting at the base and leaving a wet trail to the Australian’s head. 

Sniper finally relaxed his hand a little, allowing Medic some space. 

Medic put his hands on Sniper’s hips and slid his mouth over his teammate’s cock. He was staring up with a rather dominant, or at least defiant, expression. 

Sniper looked down at him with a raised eyebrow, but couldn’t be bothered to say anything about it, as he was far too busy enjoying himself. 

Medic allowed himself a tiny, triumphant smile (which, with his mouthful, was more like a triumphant eye-crinkle) and looked down, his mind back on the business at hand. He pursed his lips around Sniper’s head, lipping and sucking the corona, flicking his tongue over the tiny hole at the tip. 

Sniper’s body tensed as he started to near his climax, and he tightened his fingers around the back of Medic’s neck. 

Medic moaned and bucked as his neck was deliciously squeezed, and he began to suck furiously, eyes closed and making happy noises around Sniper’s cock. 

Just as he came, Sniper snapped Medic’s neck. He wiped himself off and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred from Y!Gallery, written by my wife and I.


End file.
